My Plus One and I start out downtown, at an all-day freak party. We arrive just in time to see a performer named KEG. KEG is a one-man hair-metal band, which is kind of a brilliant idea—if Axl played all the instruments on the Guns N' Roses albums, we'd probably be listening to Chinese Democracy 3: The Rockening by now. KEG does an amazing cover of "20th Century Boy" by first laying down the drum track and then setting two distinct guitar riffs at each other, and singing and high-kicking over that. It's an impressive show, a great cover, and a lively performance.

Some men at the party are wearing Utilikilts. My Plus One hates Utilikilts, and I have to back her up: With all the pleats, rivets, and tool-hanging straps, they're trying too hard to overcompensate on the masculinity angle. If you're going to be a man in a skirt, you should own that shit.

Case in point: I head north to a toga party. These are men who are comfortable enough to wear, basically, off-the-shoulder sarongs while playing beer pong and telling dirty jokes to shocked women. "All we need are some young boys and a vomitorium!" someone proclaims. Togas are a kind of fashion miracle—they make both genders look sexy and smart at the same time. There are some who refuse the traditional Roman garb, choosing instead to wrap the cloth around their head to form a makeshift burka. These dissenters get spanked with a traditional Greek paddle, and the crack is deafening. How did Rome ever fall, anyway?

Want The Stranger to do shots of heart attacks—gin with a pat of butter, microwaved for a few seconds—at your house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.